At the Café Door (after Cavafy)

In the bustle, a murmur –
then from me, a seated glance
at the door. Bland lighting,
heater warmth displaced
by the quiet radiance
of a sculpture of Eros.
Your figure rejoices:
tall and shapely,
the passion invested
in the aspect amazes more.
How tender, how restrained he was
with your face. He barely brushed
a speck of dust from the hair,
the brow, the eyes.

About Ashok

Graduate Student in Political Science. Writes too much, badly needs an editor. Everything on this blog will eventually be revised or eliminated. The hope of this blog is to present you varied, thoughtful works, ones not typically engaged online. Contact me.

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"I hold there is no sin but ignorance" - Machiavelli, in Marlowe's The Jew of Malta